


hands on

by anyprotein



Category: Men’s Hockey RPF
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Getting Together, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, a lil humor a lil smut and a pinch of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 22:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyprotein/pseuds/anyprotein
Summary: A little post-workout wrestling leaves Chris a bit too excited.





	hands on

**Author's Note:**

> this idea actually came up months ago, when it came out that [these two literally lived and trained together at the end of last summer](https://youtu.be/WM14zSYbIRY), and i still can’t believe it
> 
> i have wips that have been grinding along for ages, and i ended up starting and finishing this today woops

They’re laughing at something stupid that Chris said when they stumble through the front door, almost giddy with endorphins even through the exertion that’s left their limbs shaky. They crash on the couch at the same time, this whole sequence almost muscle memory at this point. Chris is competitive almost to a fault, and it means Mika has yet to leave one of their workouts this summer without feeling like he’s been pushed to his limit. Mika snorts when he glances over at Chris, who is sprawled across the couch like a sweaty starfish, and he rolls his eyes at the dramatic sigh that leaves the other man as he brings his full water bottle to his lips. Chris looks up at him from where his face is pressed against the couch cushion.

“Mika. Give me some water.”

“Get your own; we’re in _ your _ house.”

“Too far.” 

Mika shrugs before taking a huge gulp of water, letting out an entirely unnecessary, satisfied exhale when he’s done. “Should’ve thought about that before forgetting yours.” 

It looks like Chris pouts at that, but it’s hard to tell with the way half his face is squished by the couch. “Mikaaaaaaaa,” he draws out. 

“Not happening.”

With a surprising amount of speed, Chris pulls himself up and lunges toward Mika, arm outstretched. Mika reacts just in time, moving it just out of reach, and Chris scrabbles over him trying to grab it. Quickly, Mika pulls the water to his chest and shoves Chris to the side, sliding out from under him to assume a defensive position on the floor. Chris follows him, grinning now, and Mika has to fight him off with one hand as the other clutches the water bottle. Chris throws his weight to push Mika over and try to pin him down, a venture that isn’t quite successful in the face of Mika’s thrashing. 

Neither of them notice when Mika loses his grip on the water bottle, which rolls to the side. They’re too focused on trying to get a one-up on the other, so Mika takes advantage of his newly freed hand, uses both of them to push Chris back and uses the strength in his legs to flip them over. He takes a moment to celebrate his newfound advantage, but he doesn’t have very long to revel in it before Chris is fighting back. They continue to wrestle like this for a few minutes, finding that they’re quite evenly matched, until Chris is almost straddling Mika, pressing him against the cool wood floor. Mika bucks up to try and shake him, and that’s when he feels it. He glances down to where Chris’s hips are pressed against him to confirm his suspicions, Chris following his gaze, and their eyes dart back to one another’s after seeing what is unmistakably an erection tenting Chris’s shorts.

Mika freezes. This is the part where he’s supposed to awkwardly laugh it off, or pretend he didn’t notice for Chris’s sake. They can avoid full eye contact for the rest of the day and never acknowledge it, and things will go back to normal. Instead, he is entirely still, face growing redder and redder as he stares at Chris. Chris stares back with wide eyes, and the room would be silent if Mika weren’t positive that the rapid pounding of his heart is loud enough to be heard by both of them. 

He should say something. React somehow. But Chris is so hard and so hot against him, and it’s taking every shred of brainpower Mika has to will himself not to get fully hard too when he was halfway there in the first place, and Mika’s not sure he could come up with anything right now that isn’t  _ fuck  _ or  _ please _ . Both of them are still panting from the wrestling, and a traitorous part of his mind supplies all the other reasons he could have a flushed, breathless Chris poised over him like this. 

Mika finally opens his mouth to speak, and Chris seems to be shaken out of whatever trance he was in, because he’s scrambling to get off of Mika and falling backwards, erection still painfully apparent through the shorts he’s wearing. He looks mortified, his face a searing red as he sputters, “I, uh—“

“It’s—fine,” Mika finally gets out, stilted. “You can, uh… I mean, feel free to… take care of that,” he finishes lamely, and holy shit, has he forgotten how to speak like a human being? 

Chris looks shocked by this, eyebrows having shot up almost comically high, and Mika is considering what teams he’ll be requesting a trade to as soon as he can call his agent when Chris speaks up again. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Mika repeats in a rush and begins to mentally prepare himself to deal with the certainty that Chris will be jerking off in his bedroom or bathroom. Because Mika told him to. Should he stay in the living room and wait it out, or retreat into his guest room for the rest of the night and just awkwardly greet Chris in the morning like nothing happened? How weird is it if he jerks off too? A Western conference team is probably his best choice if he never wants to look Chris in the eyes again.

He’s so caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts that he almost misses Chris’s trembling hand slipping into his shorts. He definitely doesn’t miss the shape of Chris’s fist gripping his dick forming under the fabric, nor the way he hisses as he does so, and there is no way that this is actually happening. Mika must have hit his head too hard against the wooden floor when Chris pinned him, and this is just some sort of crazy sex dream. That’s the only explanation for the way that Chris glances up at him, still unsure, as his hand starts to move. Distantly, Mika registers his own cock reaching full hardness, but he’s still too floored by the sight in front of him to respond to it. 

Did Chris just not pick up on his meaning? Surely they’re in too deep for Mika to try and correct the misunderstanding at this point. Who is he to tell a man where he can and cannot get off in his own home?

Chris, visibly frustrated by the limited range of motion allowed by the fabric, glances up at Mika again before he hastily shoves the elastic of his shorts and underwear down just far enough to get his dick out fully, and if Mika weren’t still about 80% sure that he is currently unconscious, he thinks he would pass out. He’s seen Chris naked, sure, thinks about it more often than he’d like to admit, but he’s never seen  _ this _ , his cock thick and leaking where the tip, flushed a deep red, peeks out from the large hand wrapped around it.

Maybe he should stop watching, not wanting to make Chris uncomfortable, but Mika feels glued to the spot, unblinking and unmoving as he stares at the movement of Chris’s hand. His eyes follow it as Chris pulls it away to quickly lick his palm, clearly unsatisfied with his dry hand, and they flick down to take in the sight of Chris’s painfully hard cock lying against his thigh. He’s riveted by the sight of Chris’s hand curling around it once again, so much so that it takes him a moment to look back up when Chris speaks up. 

“You can, uh,”—he quickly jerks his chin toward Mika’s now very apparent hard-on—”too,” he grits out, voice low and rough. Mika just stares, mouth agape. There’s no way this is real. 

“If—if you want, I mean,” Chris adds hastily when Mika doesn’t respond, rhythm faltering. Mika wasn’t aware that someone could look bashful with their hand on their cock, but he supposes he’s getting all sorts of new experiences today. 

He opens his mouth to reply and finds that he is unable to, has to clear his throat before trying again. “Yeah, I’ll… yeah,” he says eloquently before moving for the first time in what feels like hours. His hand is trembling as he pulls his own shorts down, enough to get his own dick out, and he hears Chris grunt, followed by the slick sound of his hand stroking his cock growing in volume and speed.  _ It’s just a coincidence _ , Mika reminds himself. He wets his hand, and there’s no stopping the gasp that escapes him as he finally wraps it around himself, nor the shuddery exhale as he gives it a firm stroke. His heart is still pounding, mind racing—uncharted territory does not even  _ begin  _ to describe the situation. 

Is he allowed to look at Chris? Chris was certainly looking at him earlier, but that was before he had a hand on his cock. What is the protocol for platonically masturbating with a teammate for whom you’ve had feelings for months after you gave him a boner? They sure as hell didn’t cover this in orientation when he joined the league. After a moment’s hesitation, he decides to risk it and look up at Chris again, and a surge of heat hits him when he sees that Chris is still staring back at him.  His cock twitches in his hand, and he bites his lip to try to stop any sounds from escaping. He’s been spoiled by the soundproof walls of his apartment that eliminate the need to hold back any noises he makes, a fact that he is now seriously regretting because Chris is  _ right there _ , looking like something out of a wet dream, and Mika’s not sure he’ll be able to hold back now. 

Not when he can watch the flex of Chris’s powerful arms as he gets himself off, or the intensity in his eyes, or the grip he has around his cock, which is somehow even bigger than Mika expected. He wonders what that grip would feel like on his own cock—he knows Chris’s hands are rougher than his own, and it looks like he grasps himself tighter than Mika does. A broken sound escapes Mika as he imagines the rough stroke of Chris’s hand, eyes momentarily closing in pleasure, and he’s not sure if he imagines the quiet, “ _ Fuck,”  _ from Chris that follows. 

He decides to let himself live in the fantasy, and he feels his self-restraint starting to slip away when he thinks about letting Chris hear him, and Chris  _ responding  _ to it, getting off on Mika’s voice, unable to look away as he puts himself on display. He shivers at the thought and lets out a strangled moan, a bit louder than he’d wanted, but he sees Chris’s face screw up, his hips jerk, and a thrill lights up Mika’s body. He’s been stroking himself more slowly, still caught up in how surreal the situation is, but he can’t help but pick up the pace now, not even bothering to hold back the breathless sounds that leave him. 

Chris grunts again and tilts his head back in pleasure, and Mika traces the muscles of his neck, the strong line of his jaw, thinking about how visible any marks he left would be against that pale skin. Chris doesn’t stay in that position very long before his eyes fall to Mika again, teeth sinking into his lower lip in a way that gives Mika all sorts of ideas. The urge to crawl over and kiss him is getting harder to ignore; he has to tear his eyes away. It isn’t much better when they land on Chris’s cock again, but it is harder to focus on just one thing he wants, which helps stop him from doing something incredibly stupid. He realizes quickly though, that Chris has, consciously or not, synchronized the movement of his hand with Mika’s, and Mika makes a sound that is almost a sob at the thought, hips bucking into his hand. Chris matches it with a quiet groan, and Mika is suddenly very aware of how close he is to coming. He’s panting now, overheated, desperate for Chris to come.

“Fuck,  _ Chris _ , I—” 

The words pour out of him before he can think, and he would be mortified if Chris didn’t let out his loudest sound yet when he hears his name, coming all over his hand and shirt. Mika groans at the sight, stroking himself frantically now, and the look in Chris’s eyes as he watches Mika is something akin to awestruck. Mika nearly whines under the attention, his rhythm faltering, and it isn’t much longer before he’s coming too with a sharp cry. He spends a moment basking in the feeling, breathing hard after what’s probably the best orgasm he’s had in months, which happened while masturbating on the floor of a teammate’s living room. He would laugh at the absurdity of the situation if he weren’t filled with dread as reality sinks in. He opens his mouth to speak, not even sure what he can say that isn’t entirely damning. 

“Chris, I—”

“I like you,” Chris blurts out, cutting off whatever bullshit Mika was about to make up on the spot to cover himself. “I—I  _ have  _ liked you, and I didn’t wanna say anything because I didn’t want to make things weird, but we just jerked off together, so I think that ship might have sailed?” 

For the second time today, Mika freezes, wide-eyed. His heart is racing once again, and he idly thinks that it’s a miracle he didn’t have a heart attack at some point in the last hour. Chris likes him. Chris  _ actually  _ has feelings for him. Holy shit. 

“Uh… Mika?” Chris says weakly, and it finally occurs to Mika that he hasn’t actually responded yet. Chris looks away, noticeably starting to close himself off, and gives a quick, self-deprecating laugh before he continues, “Right, definitely weird. I’ll—” 

He’s cut off by Mika cupping his cheek with one hand and kissing him the way he’s wanted to for the past—well, the past six months, really. Mika can feel the tension leave him all at once before he kisses back, and it’s softer than Mika always thought it would be, more sweet and filled with the same longing that Mika has felt for ages now. By the time they pull apart, Mika feels his heart melt when he sees the spark of hope in Chris’s eyes. He smiles wide, pressing their foreheads together and throwing his arms around Chris’s neck. 

“I like you too.” 

Chris grins back. 

“Does this mean I can have some of your water now?” 

**Author's Note:**

> would you believe me if i said that i write things that aren’t porn too


End file.
